


A Blade's Edge

by TheRedWulf



Series: Roosa One Shots [9]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Archaeology, Banter, Boss/Employee Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Modern Era, Museums, Mutual Pining, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Road Trip, Romantic!Roose, Roosa - Freeform, Rough Sex, Smarty!Sansa, Smut, plot holes, romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:07:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22106800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRedWulf/pseuds/TheRedWulf
Summary: AU - Modern - In which a very bad day changes Sansa's life forever...Picset is viewableHERE
Relationships: Roose Bolton & Sansa Stark, Roose Bolton/Sansa Stark
Series: Roosa One Shots [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1469906
Comments: 37
Kudos: 172





	A Blade's Edge

**Author's Note:**

> An impulsive Roosa one shot as a means to take a break from my open stories that have consumed my waking hours. If I am being honest, aside from Stansa, Roosa is probably my favorite pairing. I love writing them, especially in modern au. 
> 
> Hopefully you enjoy this. 
> 
> For the 500th time I don't consider myself a writer. This is unbeta'd so I apologize for any errors.  
> Thank you for reading!

“Fucking fuck” Sansa muttered to herself, making her way through the sudden downpour of early fall rain, her broken high heel slowing her down as she tried to protect her briefcase with the shelter of her body. 

It had, for lack of a better term, been an absolute shit-show of a morning. Dominoes started to fall the moment she woke up to realize she had overslept by nearly an hour. From there, everything had spiraled out of control until she was doing her best not to cry as she reached the final stretch to her destination. 

Overslept. Lost a contact lense and had to settle for her glasses. Broke a nail on the door jam. She hadn’t set the coffee machine correctly so she had to grab some on the way to work. Outside the coffee shop, the strap on her briefcase gave up the ghost and everything fell to the sidewalk and then, as she tried to gather her papers and items while other’s hurried by, the rain had begun.

What a shit-show.

Between the coffee shop and the last block, her high heel decided that it wanted to go right, while her foot went left and she rolled her ankle and that is where the tears really started to scream at the backs of her eyelids. She did her best to breathe, to stay calm, she was a strong independent, intelligent woman, she could do this...right? 

Right. 

The Wintertown Historical Museum loomed on the horizon and she couldn’t wait to get inside. She was already late, there was nothing she could do about that, but she just wanted to be warm at this point. Just wanted to get to work and have this day get better.

As she neared the door she lowered her briefcase and unzipped her jacket, the wet material clinging to her suit like a wet rag and she couldn’t wait to toss it aside. However, just as her hand reached the intricately designed metal door handle and pulled it open, a shorter, lean body shoved passed hers, knocking her out of the way and to her knees on the marble foyer. 

The hot sting of her coffee on her white blouse and skirt was almost as painful as the hot tears burning through her eyes. She looked up and the man, young and blonde, had his face buried in his cell phone and never even bothered to pause or look back. 

“That is _it_ ” she slammed her empty coffee cup onto the marble. “Hey, asshole!” she yelled and the entire museum entrance seemed to slow to a stop, everyone looking to her _except_ the asshole who had knocked her down. “HEY! Golden boy!” she yelled and she pushed to her feet, this time the young man turning to look back with a sneer. 

“What?”

“You enjoy knocking women out of the way?” she glared, fury giving her strength to be more confrontational that she had ever been in her life. 

“I didn’t---”

“You sure did, bucko! Thanks a lot, I appreciate your spilling my coffee and ruining my stockings” she laughed, shoving wet hair from her face. “Next time you should at least try to say ‘excuse me’. Pretend that you care!”

“Listen, bitch---” the young man made to grab her arm and she stepped back, nearly slipping in the rain water and spilled coffee.

“Not today” the deep, calm voice of her boss, Dr. Roose Bolton sounded as the man himself appeared. Taking the young blonde man by the arm, two security guards at his back, they escorted him out the door he’d just come in. 

Sansa felt her cheeks heat in embarrassment, seeing that everyone was still watching her little outburst and her boss, _the_ museum director and the most respected man in war antiquities, had witnessed it. 

“Sansa” his deep voice sounded at her side and she jerked back to the present, stumbling on her broken shoe only to have Roose’s strong arm wrap around her waist. “Easy” he soothed and she felt his voice ripple through her entire body. 

How was that fair? She looked into his pale blue eyes, his dark hair liberally threaded with silver, as was his well-kept beard. How can a man look like this, be this smart and have that bedroom voice. It wasn’t. It was far from fucking fair. 

“I’m sorry” she whispered, licking her lower lip in a flash of nerves. It didn’t escape her noticed that Roose’s eyes followed the movement of her tongue. _Oh Gods_ she told herself, _whatever you do, do not whimper._

“No need to apologize, it looks like you’ve had quite an eventful morning” he said smoothly. 

At this point, whimpering would have been better, she decided. Because in the next instant she burst into tears. 

Roose had entered the foyer just as Sansa yelled at the young man from her puddle of coffee and paperwork on the floor. He had gone to the foyer to find her in the first place, wondering what had happened to keep his most dependable restoration expert from arriving on time. He had hoped to catch a glimpse as she arrived and instead found her on the floor. 

Dr. Sansa Stark was, and had been from the first moment she began to work for him at the museum, the smartest woman he had ever met. She had a brain that seemed to absorb and sort facts, figures, dates and faces. She could restore practically any weapon from the Age of Dragons and beyond, and she did it with the same heart-stopping smile that she always did. 

There was no mistaking that Sansa Stark was beautiful, and that beauty was magnified by the fact that she was so brilliant. 

He enjoyed working with her on any project that hit their desk. Her sharp mind and quick wit made the time pass quickly, and her knowledge of history made the work easy. She was always polite and soft spoken, and he wondered at what had driven her to boldly confront the man that had knocked her down.

A quick glimpse of her person showed that she was rain soaked, coffee stained, wearing only one good shoe and her briefcase had, it seemed, exploded onto the foyer floor. All of this coupled with her tardiness told him that she had clearly had enough of today. And he couldn’t blame her. 

When the blonde man approached her, he snapped to two security guards and approached, grabbing the younger man and directing him back out into the rain. He wouldn’t have anyone hurting a museum employee, and most especially not Sansa. 

He’d gone back to her, a glare at the others sending them back to work as he steadied her. He’d had very rare occasions to be this close to her, and now with her pressed against him, he was doing everything within his power to control his visceral reaction to her. 

An action made nearly impossible when her tongue darted across her full lower lip, uncaring of the soft pink lipstick there. _Fuck_.

He did his best, tried to soothe her, but his words only served to make her cry and he felt guilt settle in his stomach. He’d never been particularly good with women, and this was just further proof of that hypothesis. 

“Wolkan” he looked to the security guard nearest the doors. “See to her briefcase, I am taking her to my offices” Roose explained and the guard gave a nod of understanding. “Careful now” he told Sansa, helping her to step out of the rain and coffee puddle, walking alongside her on the marble. 

Though the museum was the largest in the North, it had plenty of shortcuts and hidden passages that allowed him to slip underneath the museum proper and into the restoration and curator offices. 

Sansa was still crying softly when they reached his office, so he helped her out of her soaked overcoat and damp suit jacket, aware that her ivory blouse was now thoroughly ruined by her coffee. Guiding her, he carefully sat her on the edge of the leather visitor’s chair in her office. 

“I’m s-s-sorry” she sobbed as she sat. “It’s been such a bad morning.” 

“It’s alright” he said softly, kneeling to remove her ruined shoe, seeing to the second one for good measure. He set her shoes aside and stood, crossing to the large supply cabinets and grabbing a towel. 

“I’m not usually a crier” she gave a watery laugh as he approached. 

“Sometimes a good cry is all that’s needed” he carefully wiped her smeared makeup, nearly smiling at the small smattering of freckles that appeared as he worked. Being this close, he could discover a hundred new things that made her even more beautiful. “Take this” he handed her the dry towel. 

“Thank you” she gingerly took the white fluffy cloth. 

“Use the bathroom there, dry your hair as best you can so you don’t catch a cold” he explained and she nodded. “There is a sweater of mine hanging in the closet if you’re not uncomfortable with wearing it. Its clean, I assure you. I’ll send an intern for more coffee, and you can either stay at work or go home.” 

She gave a small sniffle, “I’ll stay,” she said. “I’ve made it this far, I might as well get to work on the Valyrian daggers.” 

“Alright” he forced himself to step back and offered a hand, one she took and rose to her feet. 

“Thank you, Dr. Bolton” she said softly. 

“There is no need, but you are welcome” he replied and she padded barefoot to the bathroom attached to the curator’s office. 

Once the door was closed, he let out a deep breath he didn’t realize he was holding, running a hand over his face. Deciding that he would distract himself with busy work, he crossed to the phone and dialed Ramsay, one of their weapons interns that had come on board last month, sending the younger man for coffee for Sansa and himself. 

On impulse, he grabbed her high heel and noted the size, telling Ramsay to find a suitable pair of flats or shoes for her to wear. Though an odd request, Roose wasn’t about to spend time explaining himself. 

He had just hung up the phone when Sansa emerged, her appearance hitting him with the force of a physical blow. Her hair had been tamed and plaited over one shoulder, her stockings were discarded and her long pale legs were on display beneath her modest skirt, and even though her knees were red, the skin wasn’t broken which was good. But it was his sweater, an old aran pullover he kept here in case of a storm, hanging from her shoulders and over her hands to her fingers that nearly unmanned him.

“It’s a little big” she smiled, her eyes were red from crying but much brighter now. Her glasses made her look impossibly young, but sinfully sexy. A juxtaposition that made him aware that she was much too far out of his league to even ponder. “But it's very warm. Thank you.”

“I am a bit more broad than you” he agreed as she lifted the cuff to her face, snuggling into the fabric. _Fuck._

“All men from the North are broad, not necessarily a bad thing” she gave a small shrug, tossing her ivory blouse and torn stockings into the waste bin. 

“Ramsay should be here shortly with coffee and a pair of shoes for you to wear while you work” he explained and her smile was luminous. 

“Thank you” she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I am very grateful for all of your help.” 

“We’re a team, we have to take care of each other here at the museum” he said as Wolkan arrived, her briefcase in hand. 

“Thank you” Sansa said, taking it from him. The papers had been carefully stacked inside, though they still looked a bit haphazard. “The strap broke at the coffee shop” she frowned, holding up the broken leather. “I suppose this case lasted longer than expected. I’ve had it since University.”

“Not so long then, you’re young yet” he assured her and she laughed softly.

“Days like today, I feel ancient” she countered. 

“Then you would be your namesake, Queen Sansa” he noted. 

“Indeed” she tucked her bag under her arm. “Well, now that I’ve gotten my crying episode out of the way, I suppose I should get to work on those blades.”

“Of course” he agreed. “I will join you shortly.”

She smiled and moved to the door, but stopped and looked back, “Thank you, again, for everything.” 

“You’re most welcome” he assured her, and couldn’t take his eyes from her as she walked barefoot across the hall.

Sansa made sure that Roose wasn’t looking, and once again snuck a sniff of the sweater, his rich evergreen cologne filling her senses and making her smile. The scent, however, was beginning to fade and she wondered how she was ever going to cope with it gone. 

She’d had the sweater a fortnight now, unabashedly wearing it to work when the early mornings were filled with blustery snow, uncaring that the aran was a bit baggy on her slender frame. 

She had intended to give it back, at least initially, and had even gone so far as to bring it into work but that day the heaters went out and she pulled it on over her cardigan as she worked in the restoration room with Roose. He had noticed, of course, choosing only to raise a brow rather than comment. For which she was grateful. 

Now it seemed that the sweater would become a part of her wardrobe, which is probably a good thing considering she had taken to wearing it at home. It and only it, allowing her latent fantasies about Dr. Roose Bolton burst into full bloom. Not that they had truly needed any help. 

She’d been captivated by Dr. Bolton from the first moment they met, their hands shaking in greeting as she sat across from him for her interview at the museum. She had worked very hard for a long time to have the chance to sit across from him, for the opportunity to work at the Wintertown Museum. She’d made flashcards, studied until dawn, aced every test in order to graduate Summa Cum Laude but the moment she looked into his pale eyes, she forgot everything she had learned. She thought that she had blown the interview, even went down the block to the confectionery shop and cried into a large cup of lemon ice cream. 

However, much to her surprise, a few hours later he called and offered her the position as his team partner and lead in restoration. Her tears then turned to those of joy. She loved working with him, working alongside him, learning something new everyday about their work and him. 

It was unfortunate then that the more she learned about him, the more she found herself slipping into love with him. A silly dream, she told herself. He was more than a decade older than herself and likely only dated sophisticated, elegant women, of which she felt she was far from. Even academics were entitled to their fairy tales, she supposed. 

“Sansa” Roose’s voice sounded as he crossed the hall and entered her office, looking up to give a small smile as she turned to face him. Their offices faced each other alongside the restoration rooms, the glass walls serving now to make her hyper aware of him at all times. 

“Yes?” 

“Are you busy this weekend?” he asked, raising a file folder in his hands with a smile. 

“What is it?” she stood, rounding her desk to approach him. 

“Another Valyrian blade has been located, this time near White Harbor” he opened the folder and she quickly looked over the paperwork. 

“Oh, it's lovely” she traced the engraving on the close up photograph of the hilt. “This scarring” she traced a few gouges in the blade near the tip.

“I am going to drive down tomorrow to pick it up and bring it here.”

“Here? It’s coming here?” she smiled in excitement. 

“It is” he nodded. “They would like us to research and restore it, and when we have revealed its secrets, it will be installed in the exhibit here.” 

“Oh, how wonderful!” 

“Would you like to go with me?” he asked, then cleared his throat. “They have the sword at the excavation point, I am sure there are other treasures to be seen.”

“Yes! Of course!” she agreed quickly, her heart racing with happiness. Usually swords were delivered via a courier, as they often came from great distances. But White Harbor was only a few hours to the south. “I would love to!” 

“Excellent” he handed her the file for her perusal. “I can pick you up in the morning.” 

“I can’t wait” Sansa agreed. 

Roose turned and made his way back into the hall, and when he reached his office door, turning around and gave a slight smile, “And, nice sweater.”

Sansa laughed even as her cheeks were surely bright red, “Thank you!”

“Good morning” Roose met her as she descended the stairs of her townhouse. He stood beside a very sleek, very old low slung Porsche and she took a moment to admire not only the car, but Roose in jeans and a deep black sweater that hugged his broad shoulders. 

“Morning” she smiled, glad to see that she had dressed similarly casual in jeans and a lavender blouse with a grey cardigan over it. She was very nervous but even more excited for their trip to the dig site, she had always dreamed of seeing one in person, rather than just restoring pieces the museum received, and this one was from the Baratheon Era, her absolute favorite. 

“Here you go” he grabbed a paper cup of coffee he’d set on the car’s roof, placing it in her hands. 

“Oooh, good morning indeed. Thank you” she smiled brightly as he opened the door, helping her to slide into the seat. The car was in pristine condition and she couldn’t imagine a better way to cruise down the highway to White Harbor. 

Setting her small cross body bag at her feet, the small leather bag was just enough to hold what she needed for today’s adventure, she pulled on her belt as Roose closed her door and grabbed the second coffee cup to get behind the wheel. 

“Ready?” he asked. 

“Ready” she replied and they were on the road. 

Time seemed to pass quickly, as it did when they worked side-by-side on restorations, conversation flowing easily as Roose piloted them down the highway. She took every chance she could to covertly observe him. It was the first time she had seen him dressed so informally and it suited him. Even his sunglasses served to make him look sexier and she was unsure how much more her self control could handle. 

All she could do was take a deep breath and remind herself that throwing herself at her boss might not be a great idea. Then again...

Before she knew it, they were turning down a gravel road that led towards a rocky outcropping filled with tents and canopies. 

“There it is” she smiled, all but pressing her face to the window. 

“I should warn you,” he said as he parked beside a few other vehicles, most of them trucks. “The man in charge of the dig is Dr. Tarly.”

“Sam or Dickon?” 

“Sam” Roose made a small grimace and Sansa laughed. “Dickon is in the West somewhere, if memory serves.”

“He’s still mad at you, huh?” 

“I can’t imagine why” Roose scoffed and she shook her head, pulling her bag across her shoulder and chest. 

“You nearly made him piss himself at the last gala” Sansa reasoned. “He’s terrified of you.” 

“Again, I cannot imagine why” he unbuckled his belt. 

“Well, I appreciate the warning” Sansa smiled. “Ready?” 

“Ready.” 

“Oh look” Roose watched as Sansa seemed to dart from artifact to artifact, marvelling over each one and chatting happily, and he wondered if this is what Sansa was like as a young girl. So full of energy, wonder and hope. 

“The dagger is here” Dr. Sam Tarly, a bumbling sort of man who was still skittish around Roose. He had given them both a tour of the work site, Sansa sticking close to Roose’s side as she took in all of the activity and hubbub going on around them. Now they were in the main tents, having passed by the security officers at the front flaps.

“Where?” Sansa’s head perked up and Sam lead them to a table along the back of the artifact tent where the blade lay. “Oh” she gasped and Roose moved to her side. They had both seen the blade in photographs, but they were not prepared for how beautiful it was in person. 

The blade itself was made entirely of scrollwork and engraving, leading to an even more decorative handle. Whoever had crafted this piece had taken great pride in their work, that much was certain. Sansa was pulling a pair of cloth gloves from her handbag before he realized, and lifted the blade with the reverence it was due. 

“Look” she turned to him and he looked closer at the blade, seeing where she indicated with her gloved finger. “The antlers hidden in the scrollwork” she smiled. 

“Baratheon, indeed” Roose gave a small smile, more taken with her beauty in this moment than the discovery of an ancient Baratheon blade. 

“I was surprised to hear you wanted to pick this piece up yourself, couriers are usually the easiest” Sam said, and Roose felt Sansa’s eyes dart back to him. He staunchly refused to meet her gaze and fixed Sam with a warning glare that had the man shrinking in his dungarees. 

“Yes well, White Harbor is not terribly far from Wintertown” Roose cleared his throat. _Shut up you little shit_ he said with his eyes.

“Err, true” Sam agreed, looking pale as he wiped a bit of sweat from his brow. Despite the chill of incoming winter, Sam was still perspiring, likely from stress, Roose nearly scoffed aloud. “If you would fill out the proper forms, Dr. Bolton” Sam grabbed a clipboard and pen, forcing Roose to leave Sansa to her examination of the blade. 

He was quickly completing the release for when Sansa spoke once again. 

“This isn’t the original hilt, if I had to guess” she twisted the blade, studying its edge and then tried to look closer but only frowned. “I can’t wait to get this back into the lab.” 

“I am sure the blade has many secrets” Roose agreed, signing at the bottom, officially taking custody of the piece. 

“Thank you” Sam tucked the clipboard on his desk and pulled a padded hard case from under the tables. Roose watched as Sansa placed the blade on the bed of foam and it was closed away inside. Pulling the combination lock from his jacket, Roose slid it through the holes, sealing their blade inside.

“Thank you so much” Sansa smiled at the man and he gave an awkward smile. 

“I look forward to hearing about your examination” Sam said and Roose picked up the slim case. With their final farewells, they walked back to where his car awaited and he opened the bonnet to store the blade in a small safe inside.

“It’s so beautiful” Sansa said with a smile as he closed the lid. “And so light.” 

“If it is Valyrian steel, it will be” he teased. 

“Well I _know_ that” she playfully rolled her eyes. “What now? Back to the city?” 

“We have one more stop to make, if you’re not in a rush” Roose said as he escorted her to the passenger door and opened it for her. 

“Really?” she lit up. “A surprise?” 

“Of sorts” he helped her into her seat. 

“Aren’t you full of surprises today” Sansa smiled and he forced himself to step back and close her door, using the brief walk to his side of the car to take several deep breaths in preparation of the limb he was about to climb out on. 

May the Gods prevent that limb from shattering, sending him tumbling to the ground in a broken heap.

Sansa didn’t know where Roose was piloting the car, not until the great stone structure of Manderly Castle came into view, and her heart skipped a beat. 

“Roose” she swallowed, leaning closer to the window as he turned down the castle’s gated driveway. “That’s Manderly Castle.”

“I would hope so, as it is our destination” he said dryly and she couldn’t stop her squeal of excitement. 

“How!?!” she bounced in her seat. 

“The castle’s keeper, Yandel is an old friend of mine,” he explained, parking along the front steps. “The North is small when your family is prominent.” 

“Oh my Gods” she opened her door, unable to wait for Roose to get to her side, standing to stare up at the great stone keep. So much history has happened here, so many pivotal moments that changed the course of history forever. She had been only as close as the gates, since the house was privately owned and maintained by those dedicated to the preservation of its history. But today, she was going to go inside! “Roose” she faced him as he reached her, tucking his keys in his pocket. “Thank you.” 

“There is no need--”

“But there is,” she assured him. “This is...this is wow.” 

“Then we’d better go inside” he offered his arm and she tucked her hand under his, her fingers coming to rest on his forearm and the soft material of his sweater. She smiled up into his pale eyes and together they walked up the steps were a small, grey haired man awaited them. 

It was nearly dark by the time they returned to Roose’s car, Sansa having inspected every inch of the castle that she could. She drank it all in like a woman dying of thirst, memorizing and categorizing everything. 

The tour was, beyond a doubt, the most incredible piece of history she had ever experienced. She was surrounded by the same walls that had held traitors, warrior kings and usurpers. She was breathing the ambiance they had, she was surrounded by it. It was overwhelming and she did her best not to cry in wonder.

Occasionally, she would get ahead of Roose, and double back to drag him to some hidden detail or antique that she wanted to discuss with him, one of her favorite things to do at work. Roose’s mind was singular, sharp and more intelligent than any she had met and she took any chance she could to engage with it. 

After a quick dinner at a diner in town, they were back on the road to Wintertown, her mind whirling with all she had experienced today. The dig, the castle, the blade--oh, the blade. Thinking on the blade reminded her that Dr. Tarly had seemed surprised Roose came for the blade himself, and Roose not meeting her eyes had her mind spinning. 

“Why did you offer to pick up the sword?” she asked in the darkness of the car, their faces illuminated by the lights of the dashboard. They’d been on the road for only a half-hour so far, but she couldn’t hold the question in any longer. Roose was silent for so long that she assumed he wouldn’t answer at all, but when she opened her mouth to ask again he replied. 

“The dig in White Harbor was known to be from the Baratheon Era” Roose said quietly. 

“Yes?” 

“And you’ve said that is your favorite era in all of history” she felt his reply like a knife to her chest. 

“You did that for me?” 

“Would there really have been any other reason?” 

“You drove three hours to White Harbor, walked around a muddy dig site, dealt with insufferable Sam Tarly and arranged a private tour of Manderly Castle because you remembered it was my favorite era?” 

“Is that really so surprising?” he countered. “Gods, Sansa, I---”

“Pull over.” 

“What?” he looked to her then. “What’s wrong?”

“Pull over, now” she choked out the words and with a check of his mirrors, pulled in to the next turnout, putting the car in park. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, running his hands over his face before turning in his seat to face her. Before he could continue, however, Sansa lost control of her emotions and was crawling over the console and gear shift to straddle his lap. “Fuck” he muttered as she lowered her lips to his, kissing him deeply and without restraint. 

It was a tight fit, with her height and his broad frame, not to mention it was a small Porsche, her ass occasionally bumped the steering wheel but she couldn't have stopped herself for the world. Gods it had been building for so long, from the very beginning for her and she felt physical relief at finally knowing what his lips tasted like. 

Roose met her every step of the way, his arms banding around her, gathering her cardigan and bunching it until his warm, large hands settled over her bare back. She took his unspoken invitation and allowed herself to settle on his lap, her core settling over the unmistakable length of his arousal. She sighed in pleasure, his hands sliding to her hips, holding her snug to his groin and grinding her against him.

She'd spent everyday walking a blade's edge, sharper than the daggers they restored, both wanting him with terrifying desperation and fighting her growing affection for him. She knew it was dangerous to love her boss, but she couldn't stop it, no matter how hard she'd tried. But this man, this brilliant, cold and wonderful man had not only listened when she spoke of her favorite era in Westeros history, but had given her a day surrounded by it and if that wasn’t the grandest of romantic gestures, she didn’t know what was. 

“Roose” she whimpered against his lips, her body grinding against his, his hands exploring her back. He growled softly, turning back to press their lips together again and just when she wrapped her tongue around his, knocking came at the window and she nearly came out of her skin. 

“Fuck” Roose gave a dark chuckle as they both looked to the police officer outside the driver’s window, his flashlight raised to illuminate them, a smirk on his face. “Well this is certainly a first.” 

“Same” Sansa whispered. “But not last, I hope” she said, her words implying more than just being interrupted by the cops. They’d been so lost in each other, they hadn’t noticed the police car, complete with flashing lights, that had appeared behind them. 

“Far from it” Roose promised as he rolled down the window. 

“Good evening folks” the man greeted. “Why don’t you return to your seat, young lady.”

“Right” Sansa adjusted her cardigan and climbed back into the passenger seat, going her best not to giggle. In all her eight and twenty years, she had never been caught making out with someone--police or otherwise. It seemed that Roose was harder on her self control that she’d originally realized. 

She was almost embarrassed at the way she had climbed over the gear shift and into his lap, but the way he had immediately wrapped his arms around her, returning her kiss without hesitation, let her know that he felt the same way she did. 

She listened as the police officer, who was much younger than Roose, did his best to lecture him on proper roadside decorum, firmly ending his speech with ‘Nice Car’ before he made his way back to his patrol car and pulled onto the highway, his taillights vanishing into the distance. 

Silence filled the car for several moments and then Sansa couldn’t stop it any longer, she burst out laughing. Roose gave a small laugh of his own, shaking his head with a smirk. 

“I’ve never been lectured by a man young enough to be my son” Roose scoffed. 

“I’d apologize, but--” she gave a small shrug, leaning over the console and motioning him closer with a crooked finger. “I’m not sorry.” 

Roose gave her an achingly sweet, brief kiss before pulling back, “None of that, you already got me in trouble once with that mouth of yours.” 

“Seemed to be more than mouths” she whispered and his eyes seemed impossibly dark in the cab of the car.

“We shouldn’t be too far off--” he paused, then looked to her. “Are you in a rush to get back to Wintertown?” 

“I don’t have to be anywhere until 9am on Monday,” she assured him. 

“Good” he pulled his phone from his jacket and began quickly typing and scrolling. A few seconds later he set the phone on his thigh and shifted into gear, guiding them back onto the highway. 

They drove for another thirty minutes before he pulled off the highway and into a small town to the south of Cerwyn situated along the White Knife. Roose navigated to a quaint bed and breakfast that looked like a small version of gothic mansion, and parked at the open space near the door. 

“Perhaps this is presumptuous” he said quietly as he turned the key, shutting off the car. “But--” 

“Roose” Sansa interjected. “We’ve spent nearly every day of the last two and a half years together, but if I am being honest, I’ve wanted this since my interview.” 

Roose stared at her for several seconds before he roughly exhaled, “I nearly didn’t hire you” he admitted. “I thought of nothing during the interview but stripping you naked and laying you across my desk like a feast.” 

Sansa felt her cheeks flush and was grateful for the darkness of the car’s cabin, “I’m never going to give you your sweater back.” 

He chuckled, “That’s fine, I rather enjoy seeing you wear it around the office.” 

“I usually wear it sans everything else at home,” she said and heard his answering ragged breath. 

“I play for keeps,” he explained. 

“I’m not going anywhere. Except inside this inn, with you.” 

“Perfect.” 

Sansa loved the room they were given, every piece of furniture and decor was perfect. It had, at one point, been the attic of the great house, but was now a spacious bedroom with a king-sized bed and fireplace that made it look straight off the pages of a Victorian historical guide. Someone had come in ahead of them and lit the great fireplace, the warmth of the flames filling the room. 

Roose set his keys, wallet and the blade on the entry table, not willing to risk leaving it in the car, even if the parking lot was secure, and shucked his dark jacket he’d pulled from the bonnet. Sansa set her handbag beside his things as she kicked off her booties and wandered the room. 

She was nervous, yes, but more so with anticipation than anything else. After all this time, Roose would be hers and only hers. She walked to the fireplace and turned back to him, watching as he made his way towards her. He moved with such smooth confidence, like a predator that utilized stealth to capture his prey. Well, in this case, the prey wanted very badly to be captured. 

“Dr. Sansa Stark” he said softly, wrapping an arm around her waist to guide her flush against him. 

“Dr. Roose Bolton” she smiled, sliding her hands over his shoulders to wrap around his neck. 

“You’re stunning” he used his free hand to slide her cardigan from her shoulder, leaning down to kiss along her collarbone and the silk of her blouse. Sansa whimpered then, leaning into his strength as his lips worked her into a frenzy. 

She tilted her head to the side, baring her throat to his attentioned and he trailed his mouth up to her ear, pausing to gently nibble it before he cupped her jaw. 

“Roose” she whispered, opening her eyes not even realized that they had fluttered shut. “My Roose.” 

“From the moment you walked through the door to my office” he promised and she felt emotion well in her throat. This was more than sex, she knew that in the bottom of her heart.

“Take me to bed” she asked him and rested his forehead against hers. 

“There’s no going back” he warned and she felt her heart warm that he was so concerned about her, he kept giving her chances to change her mind. Well, she wasn’t going to and assured him of just that. 

He loosened his hold on her waist just enough for them to walk to the bed, where he lowered his lips to hers. It was fortunate they were so close in height, because the kiss came easily, without any awkward stretch or reach, it was simply _right_. They fitted together like two pieces of a puzzle, she absently thought as he stepped closer, pressing their bodies together. 

She melted into his kiss, allowing him to take the lead this time, as she had already made her desires clear in the car. Gods, she nearly smiled, how awkward it would have been to get a ticket for indecency.

Roose’s hands slid her cardigan away as she tugged at his sweater, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside and leaving him in a snug black undershirt. His hands carded into her hair as she unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his pants, tugging his shirt free. Their mutual impatience made her smile, neither of them willing to wait a second longer then they had to, now that they had reached this point.

“I can hardly believe” he whispered, kissing her jaw. “That I get to have you.” 

“You can, in fact, I insist on it,” she countered and he laughed softly against her neck, sucking deeply on the sensitive flesh of her shoulder. “Yes--” 

“You’re mine” he promised, working the buttons of her blouse as she tugged at his undershirt. 

“Yes” she sighed as her blouse fell to the floor. His undershirt soon joined it as she ran her hands over the planes of his chest. He was broad, warm and coated in springy yet soft silver and dark hair that tickled her fingers and stomach. 

“All mine” he growled against her neck and she roughly grabbed the waistband of his jeans, hauling him tighter against her. 

“Then this is mine” she turned into his kiss as she raked her fingernails up his sides and to his shoulders, he was rewarded by his soft hiss of desire. She would never, for the rest of her life, forget what that sound sounded like. It was heaven. 

She hadn’t realized that he’d loosened her jeans until his hands slid into the waistband and moved the fabric down her legs, his hands stroking her flesh along the way. He crouched briefly and helped her out of the denim, and as he rose back to his full height, he trailed kisses along her flesh, pausing at the soft pink cotton of her panties. 

Had she known the turn this day would take, she would have worn something lacier, but at least her pale pink bra and panties were dainty _and_ matching. Though, judging by the fire in Roose’s pale eyes, he didn’t seem to mind the lack of lace. She nearly lost her footing as he nibbled his way from her hip and up to her breasts, trailing his tongue across the upper swells. 

“Sansa” he growled, his control finally slipping as he lifted her and carried her the last distance to the bed. He carefully lay her across the large mattress and settled over her, kissing her deeply and guiding her legs around his waist. 

She loved the way that he felt nestled against her, as if they had been created to fit together just like this. She held tightly to him as he ground against her, mouths and tongues tangling in rising desperation. She’d already undone his pants and with the help of her desperate hands they were being shoved away, leaving the long length of him to slide against her folds through their underwear.

Roose Bolton was a man who did nothing in half-measures, it was something she admired about him as they had worked side by side these past few years. And she could feel that now in his every action and movement; he had set aim to possess her and she would never--could never deny him. She wanted him, with every cell and fiber of her being, she ached for him and she wasn’t able to deny herself this pleasure. 

She arched her back when Roose slid a hand behind her, tugged briefly at the clasp before he managed to undo her bra. 

“You’re so fucking perfect” he growled, lowering his mouth to her breasts, worshipping them with his fingers and mouth. She could only mewl in pleasure, running her hands over the muscle of his shoulder and into his short hair. “I wonder,” he whispered against her flesh. “If your pussy is as perfect as your breasts” he mused and she nearly came from the sinful words spoken in his deep, dangerous voice. 

“Roose” she gasped as he tugged her ruined panties off and his hand, one she’d seen handle everything from ancient swords to jewelry, delved into her folds. 

“Soaked for me” he smiled smugly, sucking deeply on her breasts, first on and then the other. 

“Inside” she tried to rid him of his boxers and he chuckled softly, helping her in her task and the second his impressive cock was free, she wrapped her hand around it. 

“Are you going to be as bossy in bed as you are at work?” he teased. 

“Yes” she replied with a smirk. “I need your cock inside of me, now, so if you would be so kind,” she guided him closer. 

“Wait” he paused, groaning softly as she rubbed the head of him against her soaked opening. He met her eyes and she could see the serious expression there. “This….us, this isn’t just a fuck, Sansa, you have to know that.” 

“I know” she cupped his cheek, smoothing her thumb over the short beard there. “But I am done loving you from a distance--” the ferocity in which he kissed her stole her breath away. His hands tunneled into her hair to hold her close as he tilted his hips and sank home. He didn’t stop until he was buried so deep that she felt the thick length of him in her entire body.

“Loving you is the most terrifying and amazing thing I have ever done” he said roughly as she tightened her legs around him. He took her silent encouragement and began to move, fucking deep and hard, but at an achingly slow pace. 

They shared soft kisses as they made love, savouring every sensation and every sigh of pleasure. She held his face cupped in her hands and his remained in her hand, absently toying with the locks as he balanced on his elbows. She could barely believe that they were here, together, and that Roose returned the affection she had tried so hard to hide from the world. 

“Fuck” he growled, lowering a hand to one of her thighs, guiding it higher. The new angle of his movements had her crying out, her peak building deep inside of her. She moved her hands to his neck and held on, her body shaking and breasts bouncing as he sped his hips. Had anything ever felt as wonderful as this? 

“I’m gonna--oh fuck me baby, I’m going to come” she whimpered then gasped as it began to crest, pulling under her a tide of pleasure that had every nerve in her body firing. Roose kept pacing, fucking her through her peak like a mad man. His face fell to her shoulder, his rough growls echoing in her ears and then she felt him lose control, sucking hard on the skin above her collarbone as he came. 

“Fuck” he said breathlessly, turning to kiss her softly. 

“We’re never leaving this bed” she laughed softly, hugging him to her as he rolled beside her, lest he crush her.

“Never” he agreed, smoothing her hair from her face. His pale eyes, usually so cold and impassive, were soft and warm, and it made her smile. “Gods you’re beautiful” he marvelled and she blushed. 

“I love you” she said the words for the first time, and they tasted sweet on her lips that still held Roose’s taste. 

“I love you” he replied simply, pulling her into his arms and kissing the crown of her head. 

“What now?” Sansa asked softly, both of them snuggled together on the couch in front of the fireplace. 

“Now” Roose absently smoothed a hand over her bare arm. They’d made their way to the couch after they’d showered together, momentarily sated but still wanting to bask in the afterglow. “I’d like to call you mine, publically.” 

“Alright” Sansa adjusted her head to smile up at him from her position snuggled to his side. “I find that acceptable.” 

“Acceptable, ah” Roose said and she giggled, the sound the most adorable he’d ever heard. 

“I never thought you’d have looked twice at me” Sansa admitted. “You’re _the_ Dr. Roose Bolton. I read your book before I even met you and it made me feel like my passion for history was one that other’s shared and even if you hadn’t have had a job opening, I would have come here just to meet you.”

“I’d have still thought you were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen” he assured her. “But I wouldn’t have had enough courage to ask you to dinner.”

“No?” she frowned. 

“No” he smoothed her hair from her face and kissed her forehead. “You’re young, beautiful and so damned smart.” 

“And? Your point?”

“And very far out of the league of a bookish curator in Wintertown” he replied. 

“Bah” Sansa scoffed, shaking her head and snuggling closer. “Don’t be absurd” she paused. “Though, you look far better without clothing than you do in those plain suits.” Roose chuckled, wondering how he had gotten so lucky as to be having this conversation while they were naked and tucked under a quilt. 

“I can hardly go naked at work,” he reasoned. 

“True” she agreed, sliding her hand across his lap to where his cock lay against his thigh. “I would hate for others to see what’s mine.” 

“Oh?” he barely stifled a groan as she stroked him, his soft cock coming to life under her hand. Her touch was soft, but deliberate and soon he was rock hard and desperate to be buried back inside of her warm, wet cunt.

“Roose” she said softly, nuzzling against his jaw. 

“Hmm?”

“You’re definitely not getting your sweater back.”

Roose kissed her deeply, rolling her beneath him on the couch where they lost track of time together. 

“A man could get used to this view” Roose’s deep voice sounded from the doorway and she turned her head to face him. 

“Oh?” she smirked. She had all but taken up residence in Roose’s fantastic townhouse only a few blocks from the museum. After their road trip and wonderful hours spent lazing in the bed at the inn, everything seemed to just fall into place perfectly. 

No one at work was surprised by the change in their relationship, or if they were, they never said so. Likely a wise choice. Working alongside Roose didn’t change, they had always shared passion at work, and now they shared a different kind of passion at home. 

Now, six months later, she felt as if they had already settled into a lovely shared life. And the sex….fuck, she would never grow tired of that. Though outwardly an aloof and bookish man, Roose fucked like a God and she loved every second of it. 

“Absolutely” he tossed his jacket onto the table and crossed to where she lay on the leather sofa, naked as her name day and reading in the afternoon sunshine. “How is it?” he motioned to the book in front of her, and she grimaced. 

“It reads like stereo instructions” she replied. “Why are academic texts so boring?”

“Because most academics are boring” Roose said as he reached her and trailed a finger down her bare spine. Sansa all but purred, arching against him like a contented kitten. 

Today Roose had to run to the museum for a few last minute display adjustments before their gala this weekend, and Sansa had remained at the house. Roose knew that she planned to catch up on a few industry texts, and when he texted that he was heading home, she had darted to the bedroom to shed her clothes and brush out her hair before returning to the couch and the sunshine. 

“You’re not boring though” she smiled over her shoulder at him as his hands cupped her ass. 

“Neither, my dear, are you” he squeezed her ass briefly before he grabbed a hold and guided her to her knees, breasts pressed to the leather and her ass in the air. “It should be illegal to have an ass this fantastic” he smirked, kneading the flesh. 

“You gonna stare at it all day?” she teased, barely able to see him from the corner of her eye. 

“I’m admiring, don’t interrupt me” he playfully slapped her ass and she sighed, wiggling her ass to tease him. “I know what you want” he knelt beside the couch and hauled her closer to part her flesh and lap at her core. Her folds were already wet for him and she whimpered as he teased her, face buried in her pussy. He worked her into a frenzy and soon she was begging him for his cock, unashamed at how wanton she sounded. 

“Please, baby, I need it” she pleaded and he sucked on her clit, sending her screaming out in pleasure. 

“You need it?” he growled, turning to bite her ass cheek. 

“I need it, baby” she watched him stand and unbuckle his pants, pushing them aside to free his cock, but leaving himself otherwise dressed. He stroked himself a few times, though she could see by the moisture at the tip he was already ready for her. “Please…” 

“My little kitten, so desperate for my cock” he moved behind her and she moaned as he dragged the head across her clit. He didn’t tease her long, fortunately, aligning himself and filling her completely. “Fuck” he grabbed her waist, holding her ass in the air as he roughly fucked her. 

Sansa could only hold on to the cushions, her book falling forgotten to the floor as her man took her. Though they were on the third level, through the large picture window, anyone who was home and bothered to look, might see them. She wondered idly what they looked like, her completely nude and Roose still in his dress slacks and button down, his big cock plunging in and out of her body as he fucked her. The thought made her core clench, they must look incredible. 

“Fuck” Roose growled, the wet, filthy noise of their coupling filling the living room. 

“Harder” she begged and he complied instantly, hips slapping against her ass as he plunged in and out of her. “Fuck” she sobbed, her arm shooting out to hold his hand where it gripped her waist. 

“That’s my kitten” Roose’s smirk was deadly for her self-control, and every time he did it in bed, she swore her pussy got wetter. “Come for me, show my cock how much you _need_ it.” 

“Yes” she whimpered and tried to catch her breath. “Yes, yes, fuck---fuck!” she buried her face in the couch cushion and screamed as she came. She felt her body soak Roose’s, her moisture coating her inner thighs and her inner muscles seized so hard, she nearly pushed his cock out. Roose, however, didn’t let her catch her breath. Her orgasm only spurred him on, his grip on her waist bordering on pain as he fucked her harder, driving her back to another peak before the first even ended. 

“Good girl” he kept on hand on her waist and the other grabbed her hair, holding her in place as she screamed in pleasure, her body squirting around his, surely making a mess of the couch. Roose growled and she felt him pulsing within her, his hand tightening in her hair as he came. 

She could barely breathe, her heart was beating so fast she might faint and she felt like she was floating, her entire body thrumming with pleasure. 

“Fuck” Roose chuckled darkly as he leaned over her, resting his head on her back as his cock slipped from her body. She felt the tickle of their mixed spend as it trailed down her thighs and it made her smile. “A man could get used to his” he kissed her spine softly. 

“So could a woman” she agreed with a smile. So could a woman.

“Dr. Bolton” Sansa looked up to see Ramsay holding a large box. “Another courier delivery.”

“Oh” she set her tools aside and removed her cloth gloves. “You can set it here, thank you” she motioned to the work table and he brought it in, setting it down with a smile and handing her the paperwork. 

He disappeared with a smile, likely not wanting to get caught lingering again. The last time he had lingered in the lab, Roose had appeared and glared at the younger man until he scurried away. 

Sansa thought Ramsay’s crush on her was adorable, but Roose was not amused by it. He would grumble, but she would roll her eyes and raise her left hand to wiggle the ring finger. _Married, remember?_ she would laugh. 

There was no temptation in the world that would draw Sansa from her husband’s side. They’d been married for nearly two years now, but unlike so many other couples they knew, their passion seemed only to grow with time. 

The academic world had been surprised to see Dr. Roose Bolton settle down, curious as to who had captured him so thoroughly. Roose would only glare and challenge that he had found beauty and brains in a singularly amazing woman, he’d be an imbecile not to marry her immediately. 

And, truthfully, he had. They’d married just over a year after their road trip to White Harbor, both of them ready to start their lives together. Their ceremony and small reception was the talked of wedding in the museum world, because Roose had managed to convince Yandel to let them wed at Manderley Castle. Sansa had cried when he told her about the castle, it was absolutely _perfect_. 

Sansa opened the box and checked the manifest; it appeared that Dr. Dickon Tarly had sent them a few blade and hilt pieces for review and classification. One of her favorite things to do! Humming as she worked, she unpacked all of the items, laying them out methodically on the table. 

“Dr. Bolton” her husband’s deep voice whispered against her neck as he wrapped his arms around her from behind. “Hard at work, I see.”

“Dr. Bolton” she replied, setting the pieces in her hands aside and leaned into him. “Please tell me you brought lunch.” 

“I did” he assured her, one of his hands sliding to cup the very slight swell of her stomach, his new habit that she found adorable. “How are you feeling?” he asked as his thumb absently smoothed against the fabric of her slacks. 

“Hungry” she chuckled. “A little tired, but I am better. No more puking.” 

“Thank the Gods” Roose exhaled. From the moment she had told Roose she was pregnant, he had started to hover and worry over her; while that was adorable, she didn’t particularly enjoy puking her guts out in front of him all day every day for weeks. When the sickness had finally abated, Roose expressed how concerned he had been, how guilty at what he ‘had done to his wife’. Sansa shook her head, reminding him that the pay off was worth every second of sickness, and she couldn’t wait to hold their baby in her arms. 

“Second trimester now, she’s probably the size of a pear” Sansa beamed. 

“She” Roose repeated and Sansa turned in his arms to face him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. 

“Or he” Sansa admitted, though she had made no secret that she wanted a daughter. A little girl with her father’s pale eyes and crooked smile. Though, a boy with his dark hair and her Tully blue eyes would be perfect, too. 

As if on cue her stomach rumbled and Roose laughed, “Alright, come eat, mamas” he kissed her softly. 

“I love you, Dr. Bolton” she cupped his cheeks and stole another kiss. 

“I love you, Dr. Bolton” he replied, taking her hand. “Now let’s feed you before you get cranky.” 

“I do not get cranky” she protested as they walked to his office. Roose gave a knowing smile and she pouted, “That is your child making me cranky, it's not my fault!” she laughed. 

“Uh huh” he smirked that devastating smirk and she couldn’t wait to get husband home tonight. As if reading her thoughts, which was likely true since he knew her so well, he pulled her close, kissing her deeply. “Later” he promised. 

“Later” she agreed, kissing his chin. “But not too much later.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr for pic sets and more shenanigans!  
> @the-red-wulf or https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/


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